


Down We Go

by BadRomantic



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers, five fights pain with anger, ptsd mention, whump five, written from experience of flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 21:59:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18107309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadRomantic/pseuds/BadRomantic
Summary: Prompt: five whump with one or more of his siblings there for him?? I just want this grumpy old young man to get the hug he deserves





	Down We Go

Five’s breath came in short, awkward gasps. He kicked away the rubble at his feet and flung off the dirty blanket that covered him. One minute he was asleep in his perfectly normal bed and the next, he woke up to absolute destruction.

 _I did it again,_  he thought in terror,  _I jumped back into the apocalypse in my sleep._

He screamed out for Vanya, because she was sleeping in the room right next to him.

“Vanya! Are you okay?  _Vanya!?”_

Five stood up from his battered and broken bed, breaking down his charred room door and looking around at all the destruction. His home was in shambles, and he could taste the ash on his tongue.

This was proof that no matter what he did, he would still be stuck trying to end the impossible. He was stuck in his own personal hell.

“Diego?” He yelled out, shouting any and all of his siblings names– hell, even  _Ben’s_ – just to see if he could get a form of response. “Luther? Dad?”

The sound of rubble being moved made Five whip around. Someone was in Vanya’s room, glaring down at him with red goggles. The same mercenaries that work for The Commission. He could feel a sneer work its way on his face.

“Come to brag?” He snarled, knowing damn well it was The Handler sending her precious goons to kill him off before he could warp time again.

The goon raised his hand, but Five ran before he could attempt an attack. Right away, he was jumping through the house, in search of a safe room. He ended up in the shattered remains of his family’s living room.

“Fuck!” Five looked around frantically, just for a sign of anything to help him. He needed a weapon to kill these assholes with. It may have been a year since the date of the apocalypse, but he was still a goddamn assassin… and he’ll remind them of it.

He ended up breaking an untouched wine bottle. It was odd that it survived the apocalypse destruction, but Five was more focused on the fact that he could hear footsteps booming their way to him. He took ahold of the shards in each of his hands, squeezing them tight enough for the glass to slice up his palms. Good.

Finally, a few of The Handler’s goons stormed into the living room. One was gigantic– his body was proportioned awkwardly, almost like Luther’s. Five could feel a shrill wail threaten to escape him at the reminder that all of his siblings were dead.

The man approached him cautiously. His black army get up glinted in the flames of Five’s old home and he felt rage swell up in his chest.

These were the assholes ruining his life.

When the goon grabbed at him, Five didn’t hesitate to bring down all of his strength in stabbing the goon through his armor and into his shoulder. While he reeled in pain, Five teleported a few feet away from them, with his back against the wall.

“A little slower than I remember,” Five lifted a brow, “getting tired chasing after me?”

He raised his hand to reach for a sharp-looking object from his peripheral vision. Until a knife promptly locked the sleeve of his PJ’s into the wall and another one pinned the hem of his shirt.

“What the-?” Five raised his free hand to grab the knife.

“Five, stop!” Diego ordered.

Diego.  _Diego._

Five looked away from the knife and to his brother. Diego was standing a few steps in front of him, hand cautiously fisting a knife while the other hesitated to reach out for him. He glanced around a little more, taking in the fact that Vanya and Allison were helping Luther stand back up and Klaus was staring at him like he grew an extra head.

His home was just as perfect as it was before he went to sleep.

Five realized quickly that he had imagined the apocalypse happening. Again.

“Oh…” He cleared his throat, tearing out the knives from his clothes and letting them drop to the floor. He searched Luther’s face, a bit apprehensive when they held each other’s gazes.

“What is wrong with you?” Luther demanded, squeezing his bloody shoulder.

“What is wrong with  _you?”_  Five shot back defensively.

“You  _stabbed_  me!”

“Don’t get in the way next time!”

“Five.” Allison chastised him, a hard look on her face, “What is the matter with you?”

Five clenched his fists. He wish he knew.

Klaus let out a breathy laugh, “Man… you guys are so dense… He’s got PTSD.”

Five closed his eyes before he could see his siblings reaction. He was not going to be the pinpoint of all their sympathy. He was fifty-eight years old and has killed hundreds. He’s a warrior, not a sufferer.

And because he was a warrior, he jumped out of the house before anybody could confront him on what he had just done.

…

Five spent most of the day hiding in town. He took a particular liking to a playground. Nobody paid him any attention… he supposes it was because he looked like a fourteen year old. He came back at night, jumping into his room and diving straight into his bed.

His sheets were warm. They must have been freshly changed. He sighed into the soft fabric and pulled his pillow into his chest to hug. Since he had to give up Delores, he’s had nobody to vent to. He’s had nobody to talk to about his memories and fears… nobody to banter with.

He misses his wife.

Vanya’s soft voice reached his ears, “Five?”

Five didn’t answer. He hoped not answering would result in her assuming he wasn’t home. Instead, Vanya opened his room door and blinked owlishly at him.

“Hey…” Vanya hesitated, “Wanna talk?”

“No.” Five hugged his pillow closer. He wished he got wasted before he came home, but he had been informed by Allison that drinking alcohol this young was not a good thing to do to his body.

“Oh… you want to talk to Allison?”

“No.”

Vanya shifted a bit, “Who do you want to talk to?”

“Nobody, Vanya.” Five groaned softly and rolled over, his back now facing his sister. “I want to lay in this bed and die.”

A little dramatic, but if now wasn’t the time to show his flare for theatre, when was?

“You don’t mean that, do you?” Vanya asked, worry coating her soft voice, “You know we all love you a lot…”

Five sucked in a deep breath. He forgot how fragile young people are. He sat up and put his pillow back where it should be. Then, he stood up and went to his closet to get a fresh pair of clothes on. “No, Vanya, I don’t actually mean it. I’m just…”

He looked to his sister and tried not to let her pitying look frustrate him. This is exactly why he wants to avoid his siblings.

“What?” He bit out.

“Sorry…” Vanya looked down, “Klaus said not to stare… I just… I’m sorry…”

“Klaus?” Five echoed, “What do you mean Klaus said not to stare? Is there something on my face?”

Vanya’s cheeks brightened. “No, he just told us about… um…”

Five clicked it together. PTSD. They think he has PTSD. He bristled in frustrated before jumping to Dad’s bar. He needs a drink, bad.

Coincidentally, the rest of the family was downstairs.

“Holy SHIT!” Diego shrieked when Five appeared right in front of him, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He hissed.

“We should get a bell for you,” Klaus mused, “Ben says it would keep us from guessing where you are.”

Five rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry where I am and you’ll save yourself the stress. Where’s the old man’s booze?”

“Uh-uh!” Allison was instantly in front of him, “You are not drinking alcohol, young man.”

Five could feel his entire face tighten and twitch with rage.

Allison faltered a bit in fear before regaining her composure, “Five, you cannot just disappear on us like you did this morning. Do you understand how worried we all were? Diego and Klaus spent hours driving around, looking for you.”

Five glanced at his brothers before mumbling to himself.

Diego crossed his arms, “What was that? An apology, I hope.”

Five rounded on Diego in his annoyance, “Next time you throw a knife at me, I’m going to use it to tear off your fingernails.”

Diego blanched a bit before glowering and making a threatening advance.

“Now, now!” Klaus exclaimed, practically appearing out of nowhere and wrapping his arms around Five. “In this house… we _love!”_

“Fuck off, Number four.” Five squirmed, trying to get out because right now he was determined to sleep in the city streets. It would be better than dealing with his siblings, any day.

“To the couch!” Klaus decided, “We are having a family meeting! Someone yell for Vanya.”

“I’ll go.” Luther said.

“I’m not participating in any family meeting  _sober.”_  Five declared, huffing his annoyance when Klaus sat him down on the couch and plopped right beside him; close enough to be able to grab him if he decided to jump without warning again. Everybody sat in silence for a while until Luther and Vanya came back. Then Klaus (oddly) took control of the situation.

“Now, we’re gonna talk about what happened this morning.” Klaus made a motion with his hand.

“You mean you want _me_  to explain what happened.” Five corrected.

“Yeah, basically.”

He stifled a groan and crossed his arms. No. He’s not going to admit shit.

Luther spoke up, “I wouldn’t mind an explanation as to why you stabbed me.”

Five squeezed his arms and tapped his foot anxiously. Well… he supposed Luther deserved that much.

“I thought you were someone else.” He said.

Everybody in the room seemed to wait with baited breath.

“Jesus Christ!” Five snapped, “What? I just told you what all of that was. See? No big deal.”

“Who did you think I was?” Luther asked.

Five set his jaw.

Allison stepped forward, kneeling down beside him and placing a comforting hand on his knee. He fought the urge to kick her away.

“Five,” She said, “we’re family. We’re here for you. We’ll always be here for you.”

 _No you won’t._  Five thought. He looked at her, fighting down the tightness and swelling in his throat.  _This is all temporary._

“We love you.” She added gently.

“Even when you’re screaming in the middle of the night.” Diego pipped up, “So, go on, old man. Tell us what happened. We’ll save you from it.”

The obscurity of Diego’s words reached up to him and he laughed maniacally. And he kept laughing. Five tried to cut himself off, but it was too late. Tears were beginning to fill his eyes.

“Save me?” He echoed through his grief, “Hell, you can’t save yourself. None of you.”

Klaus’s arm reached around him, squeezing him close.

 _“None_  of you…” He was shaking now, and he hated himself for allowing his tears to drip off his cheeks like some spoiled toddler, “will be there for me when it happens.  _I’m_  going to be there. Me, alone. Like always.”

“No. You’re wrong.” Allison insisted, “The apocalypse isn’t going to happen, remember, Five? It’s better now. It’s all better.”

Five shook his head.

“I promise, Five.” Vanya’s voice washed over him. She always was his safety blanket when it came to his fears. When the old man would scream at him, he would run to Vanya for comfort from their father’s ruthlessness. Vanya appeared right beside Allison, her hand hovering over his knee as if she was scared to push a boundary.

“The apocalypse is over.” She insisted.

Five’s self control finally waned. He pulled his knees up away from his sisters and turned his body to cry into Klaus’s shoulder. Klaus was lanky, but he was big enough to shield him from the shame of breaking down in public.

“It’s okay.” Klaus whispered, squeezing him tight. “We’re not going anywhere. We promise.”

“We promise.” Luther added on. “It’s okay that you get like this… It’s okay.”

Five wanted them all desperately to shut up.

“Five…?” Diego must have sat on his other side, because his voice was closer and he could feel a rough hand rub his back.

“Fuck off, Diego.” Five bit out.

“Thank you.”

Five pulled away from Klaus, looking back at Diego and glowered. How dare he mock him in his most pitiful moments? He already knows he’s pathetic, he doesn’t need Diego pretending to be grateful for it. But as he looked to his brother, he realized that Diego held nothing but raw sincerity.

“Thank you for coming back to save us.” Diego said, and he looked like he might cry too.

And something about hearing his efforts being acknowledged out-loud made Five absolutely breakdown. He was quite literally a shaking, blubbering mess as he cried into Klaus’s shoulder and told them the truth; the nightmares, the loneliness, how often he feared for his life, all of it.

By the time he was done, he was so close to passing out that he didn’t fight it when Luther raised him up from Klaus and carried him to his room. Or when Allison kissed his forehead and tucked him in.


End file.
